The Real(76)

She looked into the faces of her small wedding party and handpicked guests and tilted her head. “Uh, hi . . .” she said with a weak smile before she looked back at her groom. “Anthony?”

“I told you I was taking you someplace you’d never been before.”

Bree, true to form, looked back at him with irritation. “This is my backyard.”

He chuckled as he twisted her to the right and the crowd parted.

Her gasp was audible. Her eyes filled with tears as the photographer took a few snaps and then smiled at them. “It’s our place,” she said as she moved toward the cascading waterfall and down the intricately placed path that resembled the legendary stone wake with aqua water flowing in the center.

“The fairy pools,” Anthony said as he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “It’s beautiful.” The crowd parted again on the left side of the backyard and Bree’s eyes bulged. “Oh my God, Japan!”

Anthony guided her over to the wood walk and fawned over the intricately laid Zen garden. It was stunning. Japan was my favorite. She leaned down and trailed her fingers along the empty koi pond and looked at him in question.

“April is too cold for fish. The ground barely thawed enough for us to get this done.” Her eyes filled with tears as the photographer took a few snaps and then wiped a tear from her own eye. Anthony admired his design as the cluster of guests watched on while Bree turned to her love.

“Baby, how did you pull this off?”

“Like I said, you’ve never been to your backyard.”

Everyone chuckled as she palmed her forehead. It was no secret Bree wasn’t much of a housekeeper, let alone a gardener. Her idea of weed eating was winter. But I had to admit it was a genius idea, even as Anthony spoke the words.

“We may not always be able to go on these amazing trips. Life might get in the way. We’ll have a baby, maybe two,” he added pointedly, hopeful. “But we’ll have this to help us remember.”

“Anthony,” Bree said, completely stunned. “I’m . . .”

He leaned in and kissed her ring finger. “I just wanted you to know it’s adventure enough just to be your husband. And I’m never going back to Thailand.”

Everyone laughed as she flew into his waiting arms. “I love you so much,” she whispered before she pressed a fiery kiss to his mouth. “This is perfect. I don’t need anything else.”

“So, I can cancel our trip to Spain?”

“Hell no, when do we leave?”




Oh my God, I’m at another wedding reception in a bridesmaid dress eating another third piece of cake. Fuck you, life! Seriously, FUCK YOU!

“Would you care to dance?”

“No,” I said without glancing the man’s way. He’d been eyeing me all day. I knew it was coming. I think his name was Berry or Harry or Larry, some -arry that I didn’t even want to attempt to get to know.

After endless weeks of crying my eyes out and five very well-shaken martinis, the cynic was back and in full effect. “I absolutely do not want to dance with you.”

“Wow,” Berry Harry Larry remarked of my nasty candor.

“Yeah, wow, I would apologize but this is my behavior pattern now. It’s never going to end. Cut your losses and run, man, fucking run for your life!” I whisper-yelled sarcastically.

His amusement at my sarcasm rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn’t Cameron’s, and still, Berry Harry Larry, stood there smirking until I finally glanced up at him. Cute, clean cut, decent smile. I narrowed my eyes.

I’ve got your number, asshole. “Please, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, fuck off.”

My mother scowled at me in the distance, ever the scorekeeper, and I gave her two sarcastic thumbs up.

I was on a roll.

“Jesus,” the guy said, giving me the you’re a bitch look I deserved before he took off, justly mortified. I looked around quickly in a did I just ruin Bree’s wedding panic? The answer was no, everyone was smiling, dancing, or eating cake. And most of these people would probably have sex tonight.

“Not me,” I muttered as I shoved cake into my face while I prayed for lightning to strike me and end my misery.

All I wanted was to be part of a we. Was that so hard?

Why in the hell does everyone else seem to be able to do this but me?

Pity party, table of one, let the fucking frosting licking commence.

I downed every glass of passed champagne offered as I ate my way through the reception, furious at my predicament.

I did have it. I did find a man to love and he was married. Married, a little jaded, and a whole lot stupid with his omission, but I had him. A real man with a good heart who gave so much of himself it didn’t matter what he got back, who’d met my crazy, embraced it, and found it endearing. A man who’d braved my oral surgery dragon breath and told me I was beautiful, a man who was worthy in every way of my time and attention. A man who knew the clitoris wasn’t a fictional character but a best friend he conversed with like an expert linguist. A man who dedicated his life to the happiness of others.

Okay, maybe that was too much of a stretch, but he dedicated himself to making me happy. And I slapped him for it. I slapped him without letting him explain himself or getting answers I deserved to the questions I didn’t ask.